To Be Desired But Not Contained
by Slytherfoot
Summary: Snape finds Harry in front of the mirror of Erised. Snape was always the cruel, sallow-skinned Potions teacher? Could he desire more than power? R&R One-shot.


Harry sat down quietly, and began gazing hungrily into the mirror of Erised. The smiling faces of his parents stared dreamily back at him. If there was one thing in the whole world that Harry would kill to have, all to his own, it would be his parents. Deceased Lily and James Potter. He drew a hand carefully to caress the glass, half-mindedly afraid he would break it. Harry took out the leather-bound book Hagrid had given him. It was by far the best gift he had ever been given. Looking delicately over the few pictures of him and his parents, he felt his eyes grow heavier – not with insomnia, but with tears and a few pangs of self-pity. He knew he shouldn't feel this way; his mother sacrificed herself for a reason, and that reason was not for Harry to spend the rest of his life feeling sorry for himself.

"Feeling emotional, Potter?"

Harry looked back up into the mirror and saw the Potions master in the glass reflection, leaning a bit more towards the left than the right. He gave off a darker complexion in mirror of Erised, showing he wasn't just the mirrors deception. Harry shivered; it seemed as though Snape had brought a bitter cold wind into the room along with him. Harry chose not to respond for a while, as he really wanted to cherish this time with his family (it was as close as he could ever get to them alive). Professor Snapes presence however, made it much less enjoyable and awkward as well.

"What do you see in the mirror, Professor?" Harry asked quickly, trying to make the moments that ticked by less uncomfortable. He realized too late that he had asked the wrong question. Asking what was the deepest desire of ones heart was a very personal question, and when that heart belonged to the hateful sallow-skinned Slytherin Severus Snape, it was a question all in all to be avoided.

"The same as it was yesterday." Snape started, staring longingly into the mirror. "And the day before, and the day before that…" he breathed deeply and closed his eyes, perhaps trying to capture the image that the reflection foretold in his mind forever.

"Sir…" Harry started, not exactly knowing where he wanted to go with this statement.

"If there is one thing you must learn, is that if one has a desire so strong, and they have kept that desire for their entire life… isn't it almost mad to explain it?"

Snapes eyes darted madly across the glass, reaching out to touch as Harry had done before.

"Yes but, what exactly is it you wish for?" Harry dared to ask. Snape turned, his black robes shaping to follow him like a cape, like a prince. He stared down at Harry, as he was sitting on the floor. Harry could tell Snape was trying to maintain his intimidating fortitude, but Harry could see through it into Snapes piercing shadowy eyes. It was like water bleeding down a black painted picture that had not completely dried.

"The same thing you do, Potter." Snape caressed the mirror enviously, devouring ever crevice of the picture only available to him. Harry wondered what Snape thought he desired, because he was sure Snape didn't desire the same as Harry. Snape probably couldn't see past the celebrity status Harry carried around with him; he probably assumed that Harry wanted power. He could see _Snape_ wanting power. But then he saw his eyes… they were full of dark tears… tears wouldn't come from a want of such rank, but… Snape caught his glance and bore into Harry's eyes, a painful hunger in his globes, something that wouldn't be tainted with the gluttonous want for supremacy. He broke the trance, and taking one final glance at the mirror, his gaze once again fell on Harry.

"We won't ever speak of this. Understand, Harry?"

Snape turned and left, not a trace remained. Harry looked again at the album in his lap, and saw it was left open. His mother was smiling, happy. This picture, however, was different from the rest. She was very young, maybe around Harry's age… Harry closed the book gently, but the picture slipped out. Harry quickly snatched it back off the ground, but as he was sliding it back in, he saw something written on the back: a note.

_Rubeus_

_You were collecting pictures… add this to the book. Harry needs to know what Lily was like when she wasn't with James, too._

_Severus_

Harry couldn't believe it. He hadn't known just to the extent Hagrid had gone to get the pictures, and now he knew one of them had once belonged to Snape. But Snape hated him, why would he contribute to something that would make him happy?

With one final glance at the mirror, he turned and left, leaving the reflection of his parents for good… this would be the last time he saw them. At least in the mirror of Erised.

_7 years later_

The Pensieve. Fred. Remus. Tonks. Dobby. Dumbledore. Colin. The list went on.

Snape appeared in his mind. He never let go of that memory. It was one of his fondest. That one night when it seemed they were almost equals. Harry now knew what Snape had meant: Snape had wanted a family; the person he loved. Snape had wanted Lily, the only girl, and person in general, that he had devoted his heart to. Harry though, thought that the gaze he and the Professor held that night was not only clouded with envy and hate, but with a longing care. Maybe Snape too, would have liked to have had a child. It was too late now… No one who had died that night would ever be able to see the end… at least not without an emerald haze corrupting it.

Harry was ready.

He was ready to die for it.

All of it.

Now.

**Ok, so not exactly how it ended, but whatever, I tried to make my own. The rest of the story happens as it did before. I'm really proud of this. If you want the real emotional train along with it (Well, I listened to it while writing this, so the timing… bah whatever, do what you want. Just listen to the song, doesn't have to be with this), put "The Burrow," From DHP1 on replay. You won't regret it. I guess I'm just starting to realize that there is some sadness in leaving the theatre, or the book store and knowing you'll never return for another HP premiere, but there is also a great sense of relief, and achievement in knowing that we've done it. We've done it all. We took the journey, read the books, saw the movies, and now they will always be there for us, because we have earned them, as loyal fans. No more waiting or guessing. The world of Harry Potter is ours, forever, whenever ****we want now.**

**And we won't ever let it die.**


End file.
